


Guiding Light

by Watermelon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watermelon/pseuds/Watermelon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Moriarty has fallen so far into his own darkness that he has nowhere left to turn except to the guiding light of an Angel of the Lord. </p><p>Supernatural/Sherlock crossover, and I'm not even sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guiding Light

“I can help you, Jim.” The angel whispers. Jim is backed against the wall, the cold of the concrete going right through his suit and to his skin, sending shivers down his spine. A firm hand splayed on his chest holds him in place. The touch isn’t painful, the pressure isn’t particularly unpleasant, but the force is absolute and  immoveable. Still, he struggles weakly, tries to shake the man - _the creature_ \- off.

This is scaring him. This is unnatural, illogical and _impossible_. The thing standing in front of him shouldn’t - _can’t_ \- exist. He swallows, stills himself, wrapping his hands tightly around the arm that is holding him so strongly in place, trying to pry it off, getting nowhere fast. 

After a few moments of struggling he realises that any further escape attemps would be just as fruitless as the rest, and he relaxes, _finally_. The dark room is silent apart from the echo of Jim’s ragged, _desperate_ breathing.

“No one can help me, _Castiel._ ” He says slowly, looking into his deep blue eyes, clawing at the arm that’s _still_ restraining him. “Let me go.”

“Let me help you.” The angel responds, his voice soft and steady, pure and gentle yet with all the power of the Lord behind it. He moves his face closer to Jim’s, leaning right into his personal space, his breath teasing Jim’s lips, making him feel exposed and oddly enough, vulnerable. Jim feels dirty, suddenly, like an _abomination_. He’s suddenly hit with thoughts like ‘ _what have I become?_ ’ and ‘ _how can I live with myself?_ ’. He swallows them down, forces himself to be strong. The creature notices.

“You needn’t do that. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to save you from yourself, before it’s too late.” He says cooly, loosening his hold, just enough for Jim to be able to breath properly again.

“I’m too far gone.” Jim says quietly, and it almost comes out as a sob because _fuck_ , what was happening to him? He was too _evil_ , he’d done too much, hurt too many people. He was far too deeply, _deeply_ insane to be helped and even he knew it.

A hand touches his jaw softly, and a white hot feeling spreads through his veins. It feels good, amazing even, as if it’s washing out his system, silencing the unstable darkness and the entanglement of evil within him, replacing it with a sense of purity and cleanliness and _goodness._ It isn’t like anything Jim has ever felt before. His eyes flutter shut and he gasps. _This must be what it feels like to be on the side of the angels_ , he thinks, _what it must feel like to be Sherlock_. Then, just as quickly as the feeling had come, it goes away again.

“Wh-what was that?” He stutters, his entire body buzzing with _something_. 

“Grace.” Castiel says, still gently cupping his jaw, stroking over his lip ever so tenderly with the smooth pad of his thumb. “Let me help you, Jim.”

Jim blinks nervously, considers his options. And then nods.


End file.
